


All Dried Up

by graciegirl2001



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I want to know more about their parents, not you Berthold, well I mean kinda, you're not forgiven though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 13:59:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graciegirl2001/pseuds/graciegirl2001
Summary: Roy and Riza recall memories of their deceased parents.





	All Dried Up

"Roy... do you remember your parents?"   
  
The small voice beside him brought the teenager out of his thoughts. He momentarily stopped braiding dandelion stems together to look at the girl.    
  
Riza's eyes were closed, brows pinched in what might have been worry, or perhaps concentration.    
  
The young alchemist thought over her question, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in his gut at the mention of his parents. Now that he thought about it, Roy hadn't been asked about his parents in quite a while.    
  
They were never entirely gone from his mind. He tried to keep from thinking of them too often, lest the sadness and grief close in, but they were always there. It was as if Roy reserved a tiny untouchable place in his heart for them; a place where they were always close, keeping him going.    
  
However, the more he considered Riza's question, the more concerned he became. How much did he really remember of them?   
  
"It's been a long time," he started, taking notice of the blonde's miniscule nod of understanding.   
  
"They always seemed unforgettable ya know?" Roy continued, setting the dandelion stems aside. "I mean, they were my mom and dad!"   
  
He smiled sadly. "But to answer your question... not much anymore."   
  
Apparently, this was not the answer Riza had hoped for. She let out a long, shaky sigh before opening her wide brown eyes.   
  
"I was trying to picture her. My mother."   
  
" _ Ah. Riza's mother, Elizabeth. The one who had passed when the girl was only five or six. Was that when Master Hawkeye came undone? Leaving his daughter with only an empty shell for company? _ ”   
  
“I still have a vague image from the photographs we have, but..."    
  
Roy reached out a hand, and she took it, hanging on as if his fingers were a lifeline.    
  
"She used to come out here with me too..." the girl smiled as she spoke. "And she had this yellow sundress that made her look like she was a part of the wildflowers."    
  
Riza sighed again, this one less heavy.    
  
"We would have races through the field, and she would run so fast that I thought she was going to be swept up with the wind. But then, she would stop at the last second and let me win."   
  
A heavy pause.    
  
"I want to remember that mother Roy."    
  
Riza's hand squeezed tighter.    
  
"I want to remember how she looked in that wildflower sundress when it seemed she was about to take flight. I want to remember how she laughed when I would pass by her, right before she lifted me into her arms... and I can't."   
  
Riza's eyes shone, but she blinked away any tears. Crying would not solve anything.    
  
She still hadn't looked at him, but his palm was a warm reminder that for the first time in a very long time, she wasn't alone in all this. Connected by something that just might have been fate, the boy beside her was something real. Proof that the sometimes-awful world that took her mother away still created people who would really listen to, and care for, and maybe even love someone a bit lost, and a bit rough around the edges.    
  
He didn't speak for a long time; probably conjuring up memories of his own.    
  
But the apprentice boy, in his quiet, awkward way, wrapped his broad arms around her.    
  
Riza blinked faster.    
  
While someone else might have apologized for her loss, or tried to change the subject, Roy Mustang simply held her.   
  
He didn't even tease when salty tears finally hit his shoulder.   
  
He didn't try to explain the sadness away into something fake, something that would force her to stop.    
  
Because sometimes, the best thing you can do for someone is hold them while they cry, until they're dried up enough to face the world again. 


End file.
